


on top of the world

by Chocoholic221B



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Big surprise, M/M, Oito/Kurapika friendship, Scientist AU, but they just talk, ice core samples?, kurokura has complicated relationship, shower scene, there's a boat, they go to the north pole, we don't know why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 07:33:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19146412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chocoholic221B/pseuds/Chocoholic221B
Summary: Chrollo takes Kurapika on a romantic vacation to the North Pole, where secrets are spilled and vows are sealed. Oneshot. Complete. Tumblr ask from Piyo.





	on top of the world

**Author's Note:**

  * For [piyo_nii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/piyo_nii/gifts).



> 1) Hello all, this is a little oneshot I've been working on for the last year ha. Or, at least, procrastinating on. It's technically a reply to a tumblr ask from last year that I just sort of forgot to finish. Anyway, sorry Piyo! idk if you'll see this. 
> 
> 2) I don't know, should this be rated M? There's no explicit sex, it's all implied. Let me know in the comments.

**on top of the world:**

 

Kurapika roused to the feeling of the mattress shifting. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and gave Chrollo a drowsy look. The man stood on the bed, his feet a meter apart, and his arms crossed, a small smirk playing on his lips. He’d donned a white dress shirt and had tucked the ends into a pair of waist-high black trousers. What was he trying to prove? It was their day off.

“Chrollo,” he murmured, blearily, sitting up and running his fingers through his messy mop of honey-colored hair. “Wass goin’ on?”

His boss chuckled, sinisterly, squatting down to his eye level. He propped his chin on the palm of his hand, a playful glint in his eyes. “We’re going to the North Pole.”

That was enough to get the adrenaline pumping through Kurapika’s veins. “North Pole?”

“Oh,” Chrollo laughed, cupping his pretty assistant’s chin, “is someone getting cold feet?”

He was about to, apparently. The North fucking Pole? What was he thinking?

“Chrollo,” he sighed, pulling the soft, silky comforter up to his chin. “It’s our first day off all year. I’d like to sleep in for once.”

Chrollo ripped the comforter away, and Kurapika did all he could to cover himself up with his arms. A hand lay on his neck now, the thumb brushing over a hickey Chrollo had left there the night before. He liked marking him up like that, especially now that they lived in the sweltering heat of Florida, when Kurapika would sooner or later have to show the world that he and Chrollo were most definitely like _that._

“We can sleep on the plane,” Chrollo said, leaning forward to graze his lips with his own, straddling his waist, hands idling their way up his sides. “Which will be leaving in two hours, and we wouldn’t want to miss the plane, now would we?”

Kurapika turned his blushing face away, not that it helped, since when he blushed his whole face turned red, down to the tip of his ears. “Can’t you keep your hands to yourself for even a second?”

Chrollo sniffed, pretending to be insulted. “If you just got up from the start, I wouldn’t give into my sinful temptations. But alas, I am but a mere mortal.”

“I’m getting up now,” Kurapika pointed out, as Chrollo started to nip at his collarbone. “Get off.”

Chrollo hummed, unsatisfied, but released him. He stood from the bed, his clothes wrinkled now. “Breakfast is on the table. I’ll give you ten more minutes.” With that, he placed one last kiss on Kurapika’s forehead and left the spacious room. Kurapika stood up a few seconds later, a bit of pain pulsing through his back. Chrollo managed to be almost maddeningly gentle most of the time, treating him much like an ancient treasure that might break if he was too rough, but last night was not most of the time. He shrugged on one of Chrollo’s shirts, which reached his mid-thigh even though the man wasn’t that much taller than him. He paced over to the drawer and took out one of his own outfits to change into.

Kurapika walked into the bathroom, clothes in hand as his feet tapped against the tiled floor. He grumbled, “Fucking bastard making me wake up at seven in the morning. He’ll pay for this.”

He let the shirt fall to the floor and jumped into the shower, cool water hitting him, calming his nerves. The North bloody Pole. Brilliant. At least it was cold up there. He was sure he’d go insane if he stayed another day in this heat.

He pressed his back against the cold, smooth stone walls of the shower. His relationship with Chrollo Lucilfer had certainly . . . escalated in the last few months. Two years ago, the world-renowned scientist/inventor requested to have Kurapika join his team as an assistant. Kurapika had been against the idea at first, but eventually succumbed to the offer, thinking he could use his position to expedite his own ambitions. So, he worked under him, and Chrollo made sure it was the toughest, most difficult work he could give him. More than once, Kurapika thought about quitting, as he felt himself being pulled in a million different directions by the man, but when his eyes met Chrollo’s, and those silver orbs challenged him, prodded at his soul, he could feel his resolve both crumble and strengthen. And so he continued to assist him in his experiments, and they even seemed to become close, almost friends. Chrollo would offer to buy him dinner, or gossip – he was a gossip monger, Kurapika realized that soon enough – about his fellow teammates. They would get coffee together. During Kurapika’s rare days off, Chrollo would show up unannounced and take him to the beach or to a bookstore. Kurapika began to enjoy the man’s company. Until one day, he found himself in his bed. And now, well, now he wasn’t sure what to think. Only that Chrollo was an irresistible lover, and Kurapika couldn’t seem to get enough of him.

The water shut off, and Kurapika stepped back out, toweling himself dry. His hair would dry in time, but right now, he had a time limit. Donning a similar ensemble to Chrollo’s, he brushed out the tangles in his hair and opened the door. Chrollo’s apartment was a well-lit, dark-curtained suite of rooms, and ever since Kurapika had started staying overnight, it had become spotless. Kurapika valued cleanliness above all else, and he couldn’t stand anyone living in such a state, even a heartless asshole like Chrollo.

The two-story apartment had two bedrooms, though they never used the second – except for that one time when Kurapika locked Chrollo out when he pissed him off – and a large bathroom on the second floor. On the first floor was the kitchen, dining and living rooms, all laid out in front of the entrance. The staircase connecting the two floors spiraled a bit, and Kurapika had thrown up on it one too many times when he’d had one too many drinks and Chrollo had to take care of him. The wooden steps were spotless, of course, not a single stain left over from his episodes. A lot of things in his life were like that. He couldn’t tell if certain things happened, or if they were a dream, or just his imagination. When you worked for Chrollo Lucilfer, you couldn’t really be certain of anything, since the man made it his life’s mission to question even the simplest of things.

Chrollo awaited him in the dining room, and he was playing with some sort of gadget on the table. Breakfast had already been served: some half-burned toast smeared with butter. Kurapika prodded at it, then raised an eyebrow.

“Is something the matter, my lovely assistant?” Chrollo mumbled, all his attention captured by what now appeared to be a clock.

“No offense, but your cooking is hardly edible and I’d rather not get food poisoning while trapped on a plane for fourteen hours –”

“Ten –”

“Not the point,” Kurapika sighed, standing. “I’m going to the cafe across the street. Do you want anything?”

“Coffee, black,” Chrollo responded, pointing to his coat. “You can use my card if you’d like.”

Kurapika rolled his eyes. As if he’d fall for that. Becoming indebted to Chrollo any more than he already was would be incredibly inconvenient. He already owed the man for giving him this position, as well as for keeping their relationship a secret, he couldn’t start owing him money as well.

“We’re leaving in half an hour,” Chrollo reminded, as Kurapika walked out of the dining room. All that he got in return was the slamming of the door.

Kurapika disliked morning coffee raids. Seven thirty in the morning, as in the moment all hell was let loose in coffee shops across the world. There was already a line inside. And as if his day hadn’t already been thoroughly ruined, Chrollo’s worst enemy had to be standing directly in front of him.

“Well, if it isn’t –”

“Don’t talk to me.”

Hisoka raised an eyebrow. “Someone’s grumpy. Trouble in paradise?”

Kurapika snorted. Paradise? If anything, his relationship with Chrollo was something straight from Hell. A puzzling labyrinth of a relationship from Hell.

“You know,” Hisoka started, as they moved up in the line. “If you’re feeling frustrated with him, you should let your feelings be heard.”

Wonderful. Love advice from the scientist teetering on the edge of his own sanity. Kurapika urged the people in front of him to move faster. Mentally, of course, he wasn’t _that_ level of furious yet.

“Chrollo is a complicated man. He doesn’t communicate the way most people do,” Hisoka explained, getting out his wallet. “He’s able to charm every person he meets, but when it comes to actual relationships. Well, he’ll do anything to stay in control. That means no outright outbursts of affection.”

The man paused to give the done-for-today barista his order: One latte with heart attack-inducing amounts of cream and sugar. Watching the woman prepare Hisoka’s drink, Kurapika was suddenly struck with a brilliant plan.

“May I take your order?” the woman asked.

“One latte, the sugariest one you’ve got,” Kurapika responded. Revenge was strangely psychotherapeutic for him.

The barista handed him a caramel-layered drink and Kurapika quickly removed himself from the line. Hisoka awaited him outside the coffee shop, and Kurapika wondered if he could possibly outrun him, but that would be a bit much so he allowed him to speak. Besides, if anyone knew how to deal with Chrollo, it was Hisoka.

“Take it from a married man, my dear,” Hisoka said, bringing the straw jutting out of the latte cup to his lips. “You need to be firm with a flighty man like Chrollo.” One sharp, well-manicured nail tipped Kurapika’s chin up. “Or you’ll keep dancing around each other. Chrollo likes those sorts of dances, but I can tell you do not. Scare him a bit. Show him that if you don’t compromise, he’ll end up losing his precious little assistant.”

“He’s my boss. It’s not like I can just leave,” Kurapika insisted.

Hisoka chuckled, softly. “All the better. Let him see you within reach but unable to be touched. That’ll drive him insane. Oh, what fun that would be!”

“Right,” Kurapika drawled, happy to finally make it to his apartment building. “Congratulations on your marriage once more. I’m sure you two will be very happy together.” And he slammed the door in his face. Then, he decided to take the stairs, because he needed his time alone before he returned to Chrollo. The moisture on the outside of the latte cup dripped down his hand. He didn’t bother knocking on the door, his body having reverted to autopilot and his thoughts somewhere far away. The cup slammed down on the table in front of Chrollo and Kurapika patiently awaited his reaction, his mind awake at least for this part.

However, as usual, Chrollo had to go above and beyond his expectations. He raised an eyebrow at the drink for about half a second, before sizing him up, his eyes narrowing. “You didn’t buy anything for yourself, Kura?”

Damn. In his plots for revenge he’d forgotten to get any semblance of breakfast or coffee. Oh, but they were leaving soon and Kurapika doubted Chrollo would let him make yet another stop at the cafe.

Laughter, soft and tenderly fond, sent heat into his cheeks, painting them a lovely shade of pink. Chrollo stood, cupping one side of his face as his other hand held onto the latte, and planted a teasing kiss on his nose. “You get so careless when you’re flustered.”

His thumb brushed against Kurapika’s cheekbone, while his other fingers tangled in Kurapika’s golden tresses. It moved to push back the stray locks behind his ear, and Chrollo leaned in to plant a kiss on his helix, and Kurapika took that opportunity to shove his face away.

Chrollo pulled back to reveal a charming, heart-throbbing grin. He gently flicked the earring hanging of his right ear, the way he often did to get under his skin, and finally moved away.

Not even the slightest sign of annoyance at the fact that Kurapika got him the wrong order. In fact, he dared to worry about Kurapika’s lack of a drink or meal instead. Then he kissed him, but not in the way he usually did when he was angry with him about something. A kiss on the ear, the nose, those were kisses he usually received at work when they were with ‘too many people but Chrollo couldn’t help himself.’ Which meant he probably found this whole thing unimaginably adorable.

Kurapika puffed out his cheeks in annoyance. Asshole.

“Come on,” Chrollo whispered in his ear. “We’ll be late.”

The blond nodded, silently, as Chrollo pressed another kiss to his cheek. He was trapped before he knew it.

. . .

He ended up buying a chocolate croissant and some black coffee. Chrollo finished his own drink without so much as cringing at the high sugar content, intertwining their fingers somewhere along the way. The humid, autumn breeze swept through his shoulder-length blonde hair, and Kurapika was once again reminded this would be the last time he’d feel this warmth for a while.

“How long will we be staying?” he asked, as they entered the plane.

“Who knows? A few weeks, most likely,” Chrollo replied.

“Please tell me we’ll have actual restrooms this time,” Kurapika begged, sitting down in his seat. The man chuckled in response, an arm wrapped around his shoulders. Kurapika wasn’t sure if this was a show of fondness or possessiveness.

He leaned his head on Chrollo’s shoulder whatever the answer, and he felt lips press against his temple.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be quite comfortable for the next few days,” he reassured, and Kurapika felt eyes on them. Almost instinctively, he moved away from his lover, unravelling his croissant from its wrapping. He started to nibble on the pastry. It was a bit stale, but at this point, he just needed something to eat.

The plane took off a few minutes later, and Kurapika had finished his croissant and was sipping on his coffee now. Beside him, Chrollo had his nose buried in a book, and Kurapika was tempted to lean over and read along with him, the way he sometimes did on lazy days with nothing better to do. The eyes were still on them, though, and he couldn’t help but keep his distance.

“Did you ever get a call back?” Chrollo’s voice bought his attention.

Kurapika turned back to him. “Huh?”

“From Kakin. That Tserriednich fellow,” Chrollo continued, and Kurapika caught onto that note of possessiveness in his voice. He hated it. It made him feel like an object.

“No, not yet,” Kurapika said. “I’m not surprised, though. Kakin only accepts the most capable of scientists. I doubt they’ll reply at all.”

Chrollo took his hand, but his voice was as even as ever. “You’re plenty capable.”

“Right,” Kurapika murmured, wrapping his arms around himself. He had no practical experience. He was just a lowly assistant of the real scientist. It was mostly Chrollo’s fault. No, it was all Chrollo’s fault, for keeping him in this position.

Chrollo turned back to his book and Kurapika was glad.

. . .

Kurapika eventually felt himself relax in the silence that followed, and soon, the sleep he’d lost caught up to him. His cheek lay against Chrollo’s shoulder, the cool fabric of his new suit pleasant against his skin. Chrollo’s lips brushed against his hair.

“I’m sorry,” Chrollo whispered, and it sounded like something Kurapika wasn’t meant to hear. In his half-asleep state, however, Kurapika replied.

“Huh, what for?” he asked, and Chrollo intertwined their hands and squeezed lightly.

“It’s nothing.”

_Really? Because you’ve got quite a few things to be sorry for._

Kurapika let it go, resigning himself to a dreamless sleep beside his lover. He wasn’t sure if Chrollo drifted off eventually, and when he awoke again, the other man was wide awake.

“What time is it?” Kurapika muttered, blearily. The airplane’s bright lights came into view, and the scent of business class leather seats hit his nose. Chrollo smells of citrus and chocolate, and Kurapika absentmindedly nuzzles his neck. It was comfortable being in Chrollo’s arms. Now, if only he wasn’t such a large source of stress for him, that would be lovely.

“It’s almost eight now,” Chrollo said, bringing a scalding cup of tea to his lips. Kurapika always wondered how he could stand to put such a hot liquids in his mouth, but he never cared to ask. Chrollo sometimes exhibited superhuman qualities, and they all had to learn to accept that.

Kurapika moved away from him, stretching his hands out for the ceiling and yawning. “How much longer?”

“Three more hours,” replied Chrollo.

“The invention of teleportation machinery can’t come any sooner,” Kurapika said, blinking away the sleep in his eyes. Chrollo didn’t reply, still sipping his tea. Kurapika didn’t mind, of course.

The young man caught sight of the book Chrollo had been reading a few hours prior. It sat by the window, balanced precariously on the armrest. Almost automatically, Kurapika reached for it, but before his fingertips could even run over the gold jacket of the book it was snatched away.

“Mine,” Chrollo teased, pushing him back gently. “You should’ve brought your own distraction on board.”

Kurapika rolled his eyes. Chrollo was distraction enough. What he needed was a distraction from Chrollo. “We were in a bit of a hurry this morning if you hadn’t noticed. What’s in the book?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with, love,” Chrollo chided, lightheartedly, back to tea-sipping.

“Don’t call me that.” Because he clearly didn’t mean anything by it. He was just trying to get under his skin. A part of Kurapika wanted him to mean something when he said it. That was too much to ask for.

He glanced at the book, now in Chrollo’s lap, and wondered what about it was worth keeping secret.

. three hours later in Greenland .

Kurapika was used to his own sour mood. It was nearly constant, and only ever went away on special occasions. What he wasn’t used to was a sulky Chrollo. He’d seen bits and pieces of the Chrollo that wasn’t planning something diabolical, but those moments consisted of drunken encounters which were rare in and of themselves. Chrollo didn’t drink much, and when he did, it was hardly enough to get himself drunk. Kurapika found himself inebriated far more frequently by comparison. It was different now. Chrollo was most certainly sober, but his sullenness was almost tangible.

Feeling a bit odd without Chrollo’s usual irritating personality, Kurapika decided to investigate. “Is something wrong?”

Chrollo looked at him, as if he’d forgotten Kurapika was standing beside him. They were in their hotel room now. A small, tidy space with one large bed, a TV, and a desk. A small coffee maker stood in the corner, and the bathroom waited by the door, as in most hotel rooms. Chrollo sat on the bed, texting someone.

Realizing he was being ignored, Kurapika let himself fall down on the bed, the soft linens brushing against his exposed skin. “Alright, out with it. What happened?”

Silence prevailed, and Kurapika got a little irked at that.

“Is it something I did?” he finally suggested. Kurapika knew it wasn’t his fault, but it was more probable for Chrollo to answer if he thought Kurapiika was blaming himself.

“No,” came the reply, and Chrollo finally put the phone aside and let himself collapse back on the bed as well. He turned to Kurapika, silver eyes unreadable. “I’m just thinking about a recent business proposal, that’s all.” He slid an arm over Kurapika’s waist. “Don’t worry about it, Kura.”

Kurapika cracked a smile. Times like these existed too, buried beneath all those pretenses and pasts. “Who said I was worried?”

Chrollo chuckled, his hand lifting to brush his hair back behind his shoulder. Chrollo’s thumb stroked his cheek, as he beckoned the younger man forward. Their lips touched gently in a kiss that lasted just a few seconds. Kurapika leaned in again and kissed him, longer this time, and Chrollo responded with fervor. Slowly, Kurapika backed away from him, until he hit the headboard. A small smile flickered over Chrollo’s face. He moved forward until their noses were touching, their breaths mingling.

Reaching forward, Kurapika cupped Chrollo’s face and brought his lips to his own. The phone rang somewhere off to the side, but they ignored it apart from Kurapika’s breathy “someone’s calling.”

“They should know better than to get us a single room,” Chrollo mumbled, lips running along his jaw.

“Oh please, you know as well as I that you insisted on a single room.”

Chrollo laughed, and the motion tickled a bit. “You know me too well, Mr. Kurta.”

_No. I don’t know you very well at all._

But for now, that was alright. It was always alright at times like these. Limbs intertwined, clumsy, feverish hands peeling off layers of clothes. Closer. He could get closer. At least, in this way.

. . .

_9 am._

Their hotel room, while luxurious and well-kempt, was terrible at keeping the sun out. So, as if out of spite, it strangled him awake at seven in the morning, and kept him awake afterward. The young man had propped himself up on his elbows, lying on his stomach, and Chrollo’s arm was strewn across his waist. He didn’t bother waking up the other man. After all, the longer Chrollo slept, the longer Kurapika could be lazy.

The other man moved closer to the young assistant, and Kurapika felt his arm tighten. His lips were turned down into a grimace, and Kurapika felt himself frown a bit as a quiet, pained noise escaped his lover’s throat.

A nightmare?

They happened every now and then, and Chrollo never told him what they were about, but Kurapika couldn’t help but comfort him.

Heaving a sigh, he set his phone aside and slipped under the comforter, pressing against the man. Slowly, Kurapika let his hand travel up his arm. Caressing his cheek, he whispered, “Chrollo. Chrollo, wake up.”

Chrollo seemed to stir for a second, then he stilled, and his breaths grew slower. His panic was fading, and when he opened his eyes, they were empty.

“Ku –” he cleared his throat, realizing his voice was more of a terrified whisper. “You’re up.”

“For the last few hours, actually,” Kurapika replied, moving away from him to take up his earlier position.

The man’s face lost its anxious edge, a hand coming up to cup his face. Propping himself up on one hand, he pushed aside Kurapika’s hair to reveal his neck and shoulder. He kissed his shoulder blade, his fingers gliding over his spine, making the blond shiver.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Chrollo asked, pulling him closer.

His hands fell on Chrollo’s exposed chest. Kurapika scoffed, “You’re the one who’s being plagued by nightmares.”

“They’re only dreams,” Chrollo replied, legs loosely wrapping around him. “I can tell there’s been something on your mind that isn’t a nightmare. What is it, then?”

“I don’t think you can offer any advice in this regard,” Kurapika said, climbing out of bed, out of the comfort of Chrollo’s arms. The bamboo flooring was heated, and he was certain it was below freezing outdoors. He shrugged on Chrollo’s dress shirt, and ignored the other man’s persistent stares. Outside, snow piled up high, glittering victoriously in the morning sun. Nostalgia built up in him. He hadn’t visited his parents since Christmas. He’d probably miss Thanksgiving, if work kept going like this.

He forced the thoughts into the back of his mind and disappeared into the bathroom. This wasn’t the time to worry about his family. They’d have to bare a holiday season without him.

. . .

The North Pole lay a few hundred miles away from the place where they’d be meeting Bill, the Captain of the ship that would take them there. Unfortunately, the dock where Bill awaited their arrival was a few hours away as well, and by the end of the drive there, Kurapika was ever more over the whole North Pole thing than before.

Bill greeted them jovially and mentioned that he had a few more guests coming. The ship itself was splendidly furnished. Outside, it was a startling red color, with gold letters printed across the side. They were led to separate cabins, both of which were thoroughly heated and fitted with wooden furniture. Kurapika rejoiced in the fact they hadn’t assumed he and Chrollo were an item.

Kurapika placed his luggage (a small backpack stuffed full of clothes and books for their three-day trip) on the twin oak bed. On it, lay a bright blue blanket made of merino sheep wool, which was quite possibly the softest fabric he’d ever touched with his bare hands. His shoes had been left on, but had they not been, he was sure the colorful rug he was standing on would be wonderfully plush. Where did they get the budget to afford such things?

“They must be meeting with some important people,” Chrollo said. Kurapika nearly jolted away in surprise, his head spinning back toward the door. With a click, Chrollo had closed it shut, leaning against his only exit easily.

“More important than you?” Kurapika scoffed.

Chrollo’s lips quirked up, the edges of his eyes crinkling. “Contrary to what you might believe, I am not the most powerful person in this industry.”

He raised an eyebrow at the remark. “Oh? Then who is?”

“Depends. It used to be Isaac, but ever since his death, well, it’s been up in the air.”  

The sound of Bill’s enthusiastic greetings reached them, and Chrollo met Kurapika’s eyes. They made their way back up to the deck of the ship, past the painted hallways and various crewmembers. Bill stood in front of the wheelhouse, chatting with a slender woman. Beside her, stood a man of average height, wearing a thick, yet oddly fashionable, faux fur coat. The top of his head was covered in stiff curls, though he’d shaved his sideburns.

Bill noticed them first and waved them over for a round of introductions Kurapika wasn’t quite looking forward to. As you can imagine, something about the title ‘Chrollo Lucilfer’s Assistant’ didn’t sit well with Kurapika.

Cold air stung his cheeks as they approached Bill and his new guests. The woman gave them a curious look, her curly black hair partially hidden by a white woolen hat.

“Ms. Hui Guo Ruo, may I introduce you to Chrollo Lucilfer and his lovely assistant,” Bill said. Kurapika nearly groaned. “Kurapika Kurta.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” said the woman, her voice mellow and sweet. “I’m Oito Hui Guo Ruo, eighth wife of Nasubi Hui Guo Rou. This is my bodyguard, Babimyna.”

_Nasubi Hui Guo Rou._

So, that was how they got all their fundings.

“Pleasure is all ours, Miss,” Chrollo said, bowing his head. Kurapika followed suit. When he looked up, Oito’s eyes were fixed on him all too intensely. Chrollo seemed to notice. “I’m afraid my assistant is already taken, though I can understand the appeal.”

Oito stiffened in her indigo winter clothes. “Oh! I’m sorry if it came off like that! I just . . .” She turned to Kurapika, “Your name seems familiar. Have we met before?”

“He applied to work under your step-son a few months ago. Perhaps you heard of him then,” Chrollo suggested, shifting his weight closer to Kurapika, who gave him a suspicious glance in response.

“Tserriednich?” Oito asked, and her tone had not been one of neutral conversations. There was a note of disgust in her voice, one that was mostly hidden beneath a carefully measured cadence.

“Yes,” Kurapika replied. _“What of it?”_ he wanted to add, but he held his tongue.

“Would you like to be shown to your rooms?” Bill asked. Oito and her bodyguard followed him. Grabbing Chrollo’s hand, Kurapika stepped closer to the side of the ship, their words swallowed up by waves before they could reach anyone else.

“What did she mean by that?” Kurapika asked.

“By what?” Stoicism had taken him once more. Kurapika wouldn’t get much out of him, but he would try nonetheless.

“She doesn’t seem to have a high opinion of Tserriednich.”

Chrollo averted his eyes. “Not many do.”

“Why?”

He kept his mouth shut. Of all times to shut up, how infuriating can one man be?

“Chrollo.” One thing Kurapika had learned in his time with Lucilfer: The man could not withstand his pleading. Kurapika didn’t lower himself to this level often, but information-gathering required a certain amount of sacrifice. “Please.”

Hook, line, and sinker. The man sighed, intertwining their fingers. “They’re just rumors, contained to small circles at this point. They’re doing all they can to keep quiet about it.”

“And?”

“Human experimentation, mostly,” Chrollo replied. “For medications, drugs, psycho trials, etcetera.”

Just rumors. But rumors sprang up for a reason. Kurapika withdrew his hand, missing the warmth despite himself. “Why didn’t you tell me beforehand.”

“I wasn’t sure if it was true.” The silent implication was clear. _It didn’t matter anyway._

“Chrollo, why have the Hui Guo Ruos yet to reply to me? It’s been half a year. The estimated waiting time is half that. Why did Oito recognize me, if I wasn’t even considered? And who’s been calling you all this time?”

“Kurapika.”

“Have you been intercepting their messages?”

The words made way for the deafening sound of waves, the sound of the boat swaying, and for a while, neither of them spoke.

“It’s only natural for the company to pass through the prospective candidate’s current employer,” Chrollo replied.

“What did you tell them?” That he was incompetent? Unstable? That his theories were flighty at best?

“That you were my assistant, and that I could not bear to see you in the hands of a company that may mistreat you.”

“You told them no.”

“I told them no.”

That was all he needed to hear. Not only had Chrollo manipulated his emotions, his actions, taken his pride through the mud, but now he’s ruined his only shot at performing his own research. And he’d done it without a second thought. And so what if Tserriednich was a horrible person? Kurapika could make his own decisions and conclusions when it comes to other people. Chrollo’s coddling showed more about him than about Kurapika.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” Kurapika said, tracing his steps back below deck. Chrollo called his name. He stopped but didn’t turn.

“Don’t accept his request now just to spite me. I can guarantee a lifetime of security. Can they say the same?”

He returned to the dimness of the ship’s body. As far as he could tell, Chrollo hadn’t followed him. When he turned the corner to reach his cabin, Bill was waiting in the hall.

“Kurapika,” he said. “Where’s Mr. Lucilfer? You seem upset? Did something happen?”

He shut the door in his face.

. 2 hours later .

Dinner was served promptly at six o’clock, and consisted much of the local cuisine. A traditional Greenlandic soup called suaasat, made from seal meat and cooked with onions and potatoes, warmed them all up considerably. The galley of the ship deserved some of the credit as well. Furnished in hot colors–reds and yellows and oranges–and formed in an arc of honey-toned wood, the room felt like a direct attack on the encroaching cold. They were all seated around a large cherry wood table, and Kurapika, regrettably, was forced to take his spot at the right side of Chrollo. They didn’t speak, and Kurapika hardly even glanced in his direction.

After dessert, it was Oito who approached him. He’d retreated to the library, where he was subjected to choose a book from the painfully small selection provided.

“You have a passion for archaeology?” she asked when she first found him. Her coat and hat had been abandoned, and now she donned only a green sweater and jeans. She ran a hand through black coils of hair, pushing it over her shoulder. She sat down across from him at the only table in the library, by the third shelf of books (there were only three).

Kurapika was in a foul mood. With Chrollo’s secrets coming undone in front of him, and the fact that he was currently stuck on a boat, it was safe to say that anyone who approached him now might as well be stepping on a landmine. But when their eyes met, Kurapika couldn’t help but cave in, suck it up, and be polite. “Not exactly, but it seemed interesting. I’m always looking to learn something new.”

“I see. That’s good,” Oito replied, hand hovering over her stomach as she glanced around the room. “You seem to be in a feud with your employer.”

“Oh, that,” he said, turning the page to a photo of the Pyramids. “I guess it’s just the way we operate.”

She fiddled with the diamond ring on her finger. “He seemed concerned about you.”

Kurapika glanced up at her. “What, did he send you to spy on me?”

Her brow furrowed at his tone. “Pardon me, Mr. Kurta, but I thought you would like some company. I might not have any real standing within the company, or much knowledge regarding your little science experiments, but I can tell when there’s another soul in pain.”

“I’m sorry.” He closed the volume on the table. “I just . . . I’m not good with words.”

“I think you’re plenty good,” she replied, eyes downcast, “at making them hurt.”

His shoulders slumped a bit and he found it hard to look her in the eye. It was true, though. He’d always been blunt, sharp with his tongue and even more merciless the closer you got. “He kept something important from me. I only did what was necessary.”

“Was that something concerning the company?”

“How–”

Oito smiled, but it was too wide to be real. “I’m more than a pretty face, you know.” She grimaced. “Besides, Tserriednich’s fury could be heard all the way in my room.”

“Oh? I didn’t know he was so eager to have me on board.”

“It’s not necessarily you.”

“Pardon?”

Oito licked her lips, nervous. “You just fit his type, I suppose. Pretty, young, blonde, and educated. The fact that you’re Chrollo’s assistant just adds fuel to the fire. Steal you away, cement superiority over Chrollo. You’d be more of a hostage than anything else.”

Kurapika leaned back in his chair, uncertain. “How do you know about this?”

“I’m his stepmother,” Oito said. “He might seem genial in front of the camera, but once he’s around people he assumes are lower than him he snaps out of it.”

“Lower than – you’re one of those people?”

“I dropped out of high school. I came from the slums. By his standards, I’m nothing but a gold digger. Perhaps I was, once.”

A couple of the crew members passed by the door of the library, and they both went stiff, only relaxing when the footsteps became mere whispers.

“Not anymore.”

“I’d do anything to get away from this damned family. Every second feels like a step closer to Hell,” she replied, hand hovering over her stomach again, “but I can’t let my daughter grow up in poverty the way I did. I have no possessions I could call my own.”

“Maybe we could run away together,” Kurapika quipped, dryly.

Oito laughed quietly. “I don’t think you want to run away. I think you’re in love with someone you’re not sure can love you back.”

Kurapika let his eyes fall shut. “Perhaps you’re right.”

“I am.”

. The next day .

Kurapika woke up alone. He supposed that Chrollo’s sense of propriety won out against his horniness. It was strange, Kurapika was so used to him just doing whatever the hell he wanted. Maybe there was a part of Chrollo that valued him as an equal.

He rolled onto his side, where a digital clock sat on a beige night table. 10:20am. Late. For once. Had they hit land yet? Or would they remain stuck on this damn boat forever. Only one way to find out, however painful that way might be.

The mattress groaned as he removed himself from the covers. Grabbing the thickest sweater he’d brought and a pair of grey trousers from his travel bag, Kurapika lead himself to the bathroom at the end of the corridor. It didn’t take long for the sound of the shower to reach his ears, but he was late and Chrollo, quiet as he might be right now, would undoubtedly tease him more the longer he had to wait.

He knocked on the wooden door.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” Chrollo’s voice drifted out muffled past the running water and the door. Kurapika was struck silent for a minute, his palm on the large plank of wood. He could leave now. He could stay and listen to more teasing or lies or whatever else Chrollo’s beautiful mind might conjure up. Or he could–

“Can I come in?”

There was a pause, and then:

“You know you don’t have to ask.”

A smile tugged on his lips, as he turned the knob. Inside, steam had stuck to the mirrors and hung hot in the air, on the tiled flooring. Chrollo’s silhouette was dark against the white shower curtain, and Kurapika wondered if staying out here would be a better option.

He shrugged off his clothes and jumped in before he could regret it. Then again, regrets come later.

Chrollo’s back was turned away from him, though they were close enough that the water from the steel showerhead doused them both. Kurapika pressed a hand to his back, right between his shoulder blades, when Chrollo tried to look at him.

“Just, stay.”

A few seconds passed by, and Kurapika could see his fist clench white by his side.

“Okay.”

“I just want to talk,” Kurapika replied, hoping to dash any less innocent intentions Chrollo might’ve thought of. He could feel Chrollo’s muscles tense under his touch. Water dripped down Kurapika’s spine.

“And this couldn’t wait until after we were both clothed.”

Ah, a rare opportunity to be the one doing the teasing. “Don’t tell me you’re bothered by something so small. We’ve done worse.”

“That’s the problem,” Chrollo grumbled.

Kurapika chuckled. “My apologies, but we all must make sacrifices.”

“Get it over with already.”

He pressed his forehead against Chrollo’s back, enjoying the quickening of his heartbeat under slick skin. “Fine. Oito told me about Tserriednich, and his, uh, preferences regarding assistants. And what that implies for you.”

“And?”

“I refuse to be held hostage by anyone.”

Chrollo visibly relaxed, his posture slackening.

“Including you.”

He tensed up again. Kurapika wrapped his arms around Chrollo’s middle.

“Next time I’m held by you, it’ll be as an equal. I don’t know how long that will take, so wait for me. Okay?”

Kurapika felt him move away, saw him run a hand through his soaking hair, and heard as a strangled laugh escaped him.

“Sounds like a challenge. Do you really think you’ll be able to catch up with me.”

His mouth stretched into a grin. “I’ll run you into the dirt, Lucilfer.”

Chrollo turned so quickly Kurapika hardly had time to react as his arms wrapped around him, one clutched around his shoulders, the other around his waist. Kurapika responded by burying his face in his chest and letting his limbs wrap around him, trying not to think too hard about how close they were.

“I look forward to it.”

Kurapika sank into him. He wanted to believe that he’d leave something of his soul behind if he clung on.

**. End of Story .**

**Author's Note:**

> (1) Shower scenes are my guilty pleasure, leave me alone. 
> 
> (2) Ending's just a little bit rushed
> 
> (3) As always, feel free to leave your lovely thoughts down in the comments below and smash that kudos button.


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